


stay closer, be brighter

by polyamory



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cabin Fic, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polyamory/pseuds/polyamory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve go on their customary winter vacation and end up stuck in a snow storm in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, the fridge is full.<br/>Unluckily, there's only one bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stay closer, be brighter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynnwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnwrites/gifts).



> this is a secret santa gift for lynlyn (idontgiveastucky)  
> i pretty much wrote most of this in one go the night before it was due but i think it turned out pretty good if i do say so myself. TOTALLY not what i had originally planned to do but sometimes you just gotta go with the flow!  
> hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> trigger warning for a brief dissociative episode (i guess that's what you'd call it??) more info at the end of the fic (spoiler warning obviously)

Bucky kind of hates Christmas. It wouldn't even be that bad if it weren't literally _everywhere_. And then people just go around trying to shove it down his throat and it just makes his skin feel too tight and he just can't stand it. Which, in New York, and especially now, in the twenty-first century, means he basically can't go anywhere at all. The streets are decorated, the malls, even the grocery store has freaking tinsel everywhere. And everywhere he goes, "Happy Christmas!" and "Merry Christmas!" and "Have a wonderful Christmas, Mr. Barnes!"

So yeah, Bucky kind of hates Christmas. And that's why every year after Hanukkah he and Steve pack their bags and go on vacation for two weeks, somewhere remote and lonely. They usually come back on the first of the new year and they've done it for as long as they've lived together.

And that's why now, on the first day of their two week vacation they are stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a blizzard as they watch the snow slowly cover their windows.

Luckily, since Stark is still trying to get Steve to like him, their cabin is far better than what they would've otherwise booked. It has underfloor heating and a whirlpool and a sauna and a fridge that is stuffed full to bursting.

Basically, they have everything they need to survive the next two weeks snowed in.

But they only have one bed.

Bucky's not sure if Stark thought he was being funny or if it was some kind of error or whatnot but... there is only one bed. Granted, it's a large bed – like, ginormous – but Steve and him aren’t teenagers anymore and Steve is _big_ since the serum.

Also there's the thing where Bucky may be harboring some pesky little feelings for his oldest childhood friend.

Totally no big deal, though. Not at all going to become a problem when he has to share a bed with Steve for two weeks. Nope.

"Well," Steve says, staring down at the bed with a slight frown on his face. He turns, looking towards the window where the snow is climbing higher and higher. "Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while."

"And there's no cell reception," Bucky grumbles.

"Oh come on," Steve says. "It could be wo-" Bucky slaps a hand across Steve's mouth.

_"Do not!_ You say that and next thing we know," he lowers his voice to a whisper, "the roof will be falling down on our heads from the weight of the snow."

Steve stares at Bucky with wide eyes and licks his palm.

"Gross," Bucky pulls his hand away and wipes it on his pants, making a face at Steve. "I swear, you're like five years old on the inside. Why do the papers never talk about that?"

"There's a lot about me the papers don't know, Buck," Steve says with a wicked grin and Bucky almost, _almost_ chokes on his own spit.

"Whatever," he grumbles mulishly in an attempt to cover up how flustered he is. "I'm hungry. Let's go check out what's in the fridge."

"Hopefully it's not caviar again,"  Steve says, trailing after him into the kitchen area. It's an open plan, an island separating the kitchen from the living room area. "Tony's always trying to get me to eat his rich people food."

Bucky laughs at that. "Stevie, you have enough money to buy a small country," he teases.

"It's not the same as Stark. You know what I mean," Steve says, hopping up onto the counter. The counter holds, which is a small miracle in itself.

"Yeah, yeah, sure do." Bucky pokes his head into the fridge which is filled with a range of products, including fresh produce. "We'll have to eat this stuff before it gets bad, but there should be enough non-perishable things to get us over the two weeks."

"Yay, rations," Steve cheers, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It'll be just like old times." Bucky smirks.

Steve groans, kicking his heels against the cabinets, but he's smiling.

"Don't do that," Bucky scolds. "You'll dent the cabinets with your freakishly large feet."

"Excuse you," Steve laughs. "My feet are perfectly sized."

"Well, you know what they say about a man's foot size, Rogers," Bucky says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Buck. Besides, you were the one who called my feet freakishly large."

"Yeah, because you're usually so humble." Steve pokes him in the ribs hard for that, leaning forward and almost slipping off the counter.

"I am the most humblest person _ever,_ " Steve intones, but the serious tone of his voice is ruined when he looks at Bucky and breaks out in giggles.

"You- you can't even say that with a straight face, Stevie," Bucky tries to say around his laughter. "I don't know how any of the old ladies in our building ever believed you."

"Please, the old ladies in our building knew I was full of shit," Steve gasps.

Bucky can't really argue with that. Sometimes it's still astonishing to him how mistaken most people in the new century are about Steve. They think he's some kind of beacon of virtue or whatever. It's especially glaring when he remembers how it was back when they were young, before the war and before the serum, when everybody in their neighborhood knew that Steve Rogers was 90 pounds of sarcasm and authority issues.

"And you know what _I_ want to be full of now?" Steve asks and this time Bucky _does_ choke on his own spit. "Oh my goodness, get your mind out of the gutter, Barnes! Sandwich!" he calls loudly. "I meant I want to be full of sandwich."

"I'm sorry but you literally _cannot_ even blame me when you phrased it like that," Bucky laughs.

"Yeah, yeah, quit your laughing and make me a sandwich," Steve grumbles, pouting at Bucky with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

That night Steve and he have an argument they haven't had since before the war.

"You take the bed," Steve says after they've put away the dishes. "I can sleep on the couch."

He's shifting from one foot to the other, clutching a pillow to his chest and generally looking like a sad baby duck.

Bucky sighs.

"Get into the bed, Steve."

Steve makes some kind of cut-off noise and even in the low light Bucky can see a blush start to creep up his neck, but he gets into bed without further argument.

"Good night, Buck," he mumbles.

"Good night, Steve."

Bucky shuts off the lights and gets into bed. He can feel the mattress dip as Steve settles down and then his sleep-heavy breathing is filling the silence between them.

The sound of Steve falling asleep has been Bucky's lullaby for as long as he has known Steve. Even when they were skinny little kids and Steve was sick (again) Bucky would crawl into bed with him. Steve's breath rattled in his chest and Bucky remembers hugging him and pressing his hand to Steve's chest above his heart and just _willing him_ to get better.

And somehow it had worked every time.

But tonight not even that can calm him down, take him to sleep.

He lies awake, staring off into darkness. _Go to sleep, Barnes,_ he tells himself, but somehow he can't.

He knows what's keeping him up he's just avoided thinking about it until now, but it grates on his mind like nails on a chalkboard.

Steve has been off, acting weird lately. It's not anything overt but Bucky, Bucky _knows_ Steve and so of course he notices, catches Steve in those moments when he thinks Bucky isn't paying attention.

It's small things, really, like how sometimes he freezes for just a second when Bucky throws his arm around Steve's shoulders or how he always waits for Bucky to give up the bathroom where before they would've been knocking elbows, brushing their teeth side by side and making faces at each other in the mirror. But even more glaring is the things he doesn't do.

Bucky knows, remembers, that their friendship used to be effortless, easier than breathing. And he remembers ... something more. He remembers, before everything went to shit, loving Steve. He remembers Steve loving him back. He never said it, granted, but Bucky remembers knowing it nonetheless. But then, it's been seventy years, so maybe Steve just doesn't feel the same anymore. Maybe he was wrong all along and Steve never loved him in the first place. Except ...

There's one memory, hazy, unsure, almost like a dream, and Bucky has had so many dreams that tasted like memories that sometimes he isn't sure which one is which and Steve never mentioned the kiss, not even when Bucky first came back and they spent weeks talking about their memories, sharing, comparing, Bucky talking about things he remembered and Steve telling him, "Yes, it was true, you were there, it really happened." Steve filling in the gaps that Bucky couldn't close.

But he never mentioned a kiss.

So Bucky brushes it aside, one more ghost memory, false dreams born from the coldness of ice and endless sleep. And if this one is just a little more vivid, a little more warm ...

Steve never mentioned a kiss.

 

It's the night before the last day of Bucky's life and they're in Steve's tent, wrapped in their sleeping bags. Bucky is only half awake, his limbs sleep-heavy, threatening to pull him under. The ground is frozen solid and the cold has taken hold of Bucky's bones, dug its claws in as if it never wants to let go.

Tomorrow they'll hijack a train and bring Arnim Zola in but tonight he's lying across from Steve, looking at him through the darkness. Steve looks back and Bucky thinks he can see his future in those eyes.

Steve leans forward, gaze never wavering and presses a soft kiss to Bucky's mouth. It feels tingly and warm and alive when Steve lies back down.

"Good night, Buck," he murmurs, a small smile stuck in the corner of his mouth and then Bucky's eyes slip shut and he's falling ...

He's falling ...

 

Bucky jerks awake with a hand on his chest. Steve's hand. Holding him down- No, not holding him down just, holding him. Steve's breathing, deep and regular. He's still asleep. His hand is over Bucky's heart, his cheek pressed into Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky sighs, trying to will his heartbeat to slow down. This particular memory has proven hard to brush aside. It keeps coming up, flashing in Bucky's mind at the most inopportune moments, like when he falls back onto the couch and accidentally lands a little too close to Steve, or when they go out to eat together and their eyes meet over their menus, communicating silently.

Or when he lies awake at night and sleep is nowhere within reach.

 

"You look don't look very rested," Steve greets him when he finds Bucky on the couch in the living room the next morning. Well, it's morning for them but it's still dark outside. He doesn't actually know how long he's been sitting here, watching the snow come down in the dark but it must've been at least a few hours.

He looks at Steve then, tearing his eyes away from the window. Steve ... looks very well rested. He's wearing boxer briefs and a t-shirt, not unusual for an early morning, but it's somehow different with the knowledge that Bucky can't just flee like he does the apartment and hide out on the fire escape or go for a run around the city.

Steve blinks sleepily and Bucky thinks he must've come to find him immediately after he woke up and realized Bucky was gone. His cheeks are pink and probably still sleep warm to the touch, if Bucky dared to touch.

There are pillow creases high on Steve's right temple and Bucky's fingers are itching to trace them, the lightest brush of fingertips against skin. Steve would blush under the intimate touch but lean into it anyway, pressing his cheek against Bucky's palm.

He blinks abruptly to break himself out of his daydream. Very subtle, Barnes.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep."

"Don't apologize, Buck," Steve says with his 'aw, shucks' expression. "You could've woken me."

"Didn't wanna bother you," he mumbles, not really wanting to admit to the insecurity that still lingers after all these years.

"You never bother me." Steve sits down next to him on the couch and he sounds so genuine and sincere (Bucky doesn't know him any other way) that it makes Bucky's heart trip in his chest.

Steve's knees knock against his and silence falls between them, oppressively heavy with the snow blocking out the sounds of the world around them. It's just the two of them, removed from the world, from their lives, and something about it makes Bucky snap, just a little bit.

It feels almost surreal, sitting so close to Steve in a cabin almost covered in snow. Bucky wonders if he could even see the cabin from the outside, or if it's invisible under all the white, no proof, no outward sign that they are here at all.

Because that's what it feels like. Like some kind of break from reality and once the snow has stopped they'll go back to New York and find that no time has passed at all. It feels like this moment right here might not even have any consequences once they get back, so fragile, so frail.

(And Bucky has a lot of experience with ice and snow and wiping memories away, the cold breaking apart reality like a frozen rubber band.)

Maybe that's what makes him do it, or maybe it's the way Steve's leg is still pressed against Bucky's, making his hairs stand on end, or maybe it's that he is a rubber band and he's finally snapped.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice doesn't even sound like his own.

"I- Buck? You don't look too good right now. Everything okay?" Bucky looks down but Steve keeps trying to meet his eye anyways. "I don't mean to evade your question, just ah- I mean, yes, the answer is yes but- I don't think that would be ... such a good idea right now ..." Steve trails off awkwardly.

Obviously he's gonna have to explain this. It's unlikely that Steve will just go away if Bucky sits in silence like a statue for long enough. He's tempted to try anyways but instead he tries to break himself out of the weird kind of trance state he's in. It doesn't work.

"Buck?" Steve asks, clearly trying not to push too hard.

"I don't- I don't know how to- I don't know. It's just the snow and it's so silent. Weird, unnatural. Reminds me of-" he breaks off, shaking himself to get rid of the memories.

"Oh," Steve breathes, a sound of comprehension. "Oh, I'm sorry, Buck. I should've thought of that. I mean, of course it would call back memories of-"

"Steve," he cuts in sharply, without even meaning to. They don’t really mention it, not if Bucky can at all control it, not unless he initiates it. He just- can’t.

"Right, sorry." And he sounds so genuine again.

But Bucky isn't done yet. Technically he could stop there, he's explained why he was acting so weird all of a sudden and Steve is, well, not pleased with the explanation but, y'know.

He keeps talking anyways because he wants Steve to know what's going on in his head even if it's shattered and gruesome. The next words are like pulling out teeth. "And then I- I don't know why but it felt like this moment," he gestures between them, "like it wasn't real. That's not the right word, but- it was like it was, almost inconsequential, I guess. Like we were in some kind of parallel universe and when the snow was gone everything, this, would be gone with it. Like we're not real right now."

"We are, Bucky. We are real. And I know it's quiet, even I can feel how weirdly quiet it is, and it's cold, but we'll turn the heating up and it'll be warm in no time and we'll be able to hear the hum of the space heaters and you can come sit on the counter and I'll bang around the kitchen and we'll eat something, drink something to warm us up from the inside, too."

"And I'll feel like a real human being again in no time, right?" Bucky says with a wry twist of the mouth that's just barely a smile

"I'll do anything I can to help you," Steve says and when Bucky smiles in reply Steve tries to smile back, wobbly and with shiny eyes. He's usually the one who ends up crying first when Bucky has episodes like these, but Bucky is a sympathy crier so he's never far behind.

"Sandwiches?" he asks and the only reason his voice doesn't break is because it's a one word sentence.

"Yeah, let's make sandwiches," Steve nods, and that's how they end up sitting on the counter side by side, not even pretending that they aren't both crying while eating their breakfast.

"This is so good. I don't even know if it's the combined experience of cleansing crying and high end groceries or if you've just eclipsed yourself yet again, Steve, but I think this is seriously the best sandwich I've ever eaten."

"I think it's the tears, they add a strange kind of saltiness to the bread," Steve hiccups and they laugh together. They're still a little raw around the edges but they're getting there. And until then they can just pretend.

 

"So, um. About the-" Steve stutters a little while later like a boy who's just been called to the principal's office. Bucky didn't know Steve could still make himself look this small, but something about the hunched shoulders and the way the hair falls in front of his face, the stubborn set of his jaw like he knows the world is out to get him and he's not about to let it win- it reminds him of before the war when he could pick Steve up and carry him all the way down to the docks without breaking a sweat.

He could probably do it today, too, but it's different. There was a time in between where he couldn't have carried Steve. (Where he couldn't have protected him.)

"About the kiss," Bucky finishes and watches the line of Steve's shoulders relax a little. They're back on the couch and they've turned on the heat full blast. There's a book on Steve's lap but he stopped reading it about ten minutes ago.

"Yes. I mean, no, technically no kiss. Yet. But, talking about- about kissing." Steve seems to be a hell of a lot more nervous about a little kissing than he's ever been about jumping onto moving trains or out of elevators or some shit like that.

"Yeah."

"Why'd you ask?" It sounds tortured, like Steve doesn't want to ask but needs to hear the answer either way. Whether he likes it or not.

"Duh. Why'd I ask," Bucky scoffs.

"Bucky," Steve says, a world of meanings wrapped up in that one word.

"Cause I wanna kiss you, silly."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Steve, I really, really do," Bucky admits, like baring his innards to vultures.

"I do, too," Steve says and he's blushing, bubblegum pink high on his cheeks. Bucky's kind of crazy about him.

"You do?" Bucky can't help echoing Steve's own question, flinching at how hopeful and surprised he sounds.

"Of course I do," Steve sits up on his knees so he can lean closer to Bucky, take Bucky's hands in both of his and look him deep in the eye. (Always so _damn_ sincere.) "Why would you ever doubt that?"

"I don't- I don't know." And suddenly he really doesn't know. It's crystal clear. Of course Steve wants to kiss him, of course Steve likes him. Why did he ever doubt it when he knew it all along?

Steve smiles at him, softly, like petals peeking out of a flower bud. "Can I kiss you now?"

"Of course."

The kiss is exactly like Bucky remembers it. Tingly, warm, alive.

The kiss is nothing like Bucky remembers it. Rough with both their stubble, sweet from the taste of hot chocolate in their mouths, gentle, urgent, all encompassing.

Steve is leaning over Bucky just a little, pressing him back into the arm of the couch. He holds Bucky close with both hands, framing his face, rubbing small circles over Bucky's cheekbone with his thumb.

Bucky reaches up, pressing one hand to the side of Steve's neck, the thin skin hot under his touch from a blush, Steve's pulse thrumming hummingbird quick against Bucky's fingertips.

His left hand he rests lightly against the back of Steve's skull, barely a touch at all, until Steve presses into the touch, making an encouraging little noise.

"Bucky," he breathes into the space between them.

"Stevie," Bucky whispers back. "I had a- a memory like this," he says, because they should have all cards on the table for this. "A kiss."

Steve's breath stutters on the inhale and his eyes are shut when Bucky tries to get a good look at him.

It's not real then, that's why Steve looks so wounded. He thought they'd finally sorted through all of Bucky's memories and here Bucky was, ruining a perfectly good moment by bringing attention once again to his many, many issues.

"Hey, it's okay," he reassures Steve. "Not a real memory, I'll remember that. Please don't beat yourself up about it. Steve, hey," Bucky pleads, voice growing more and more desperate the longer Steve doesn't react. (This is how Steve must feel all the time with him.)

"No, Bucky, that's- that's not it," Steve says and he sounds close to sobbing again. They haven't moved away from each other much at all so when Steve opens his eyes again Bucky can see that his eyelashes are clumped together with tears. "It's real. It's real. It happened. I didn't-" he does sob then, big and heaving. "I didn't know you remembered it. You never mentioned it."

_"You_ never mentioned it," Bucky accuses and Steve gives a wet laugh.

"Yeah, s'pose I didn't."

"Why didn't you?" he can't help but ask.

"I don't know," Steve shrugs, jostling both of them with the movement but Bucky refuses to let go. "I guess I just thought- you were so fragile in the beginning-" Bucky flinches at his words and Steve hurries to say, "No, no. I mean, you were just finding yourself again as a human being. I didn't want you to think I was expecting something from you."

He knows what Steve means of course, but it still feels raw and open to have someone else say it like that. Back in the days when Bucky had first come back, after he'd regained a string of memories, incoherent and jumbled up, some days he'd still been more of a machine than a person. And he knows now that if the Bucky back then, the Winter Soldier, had learned that Steve had feelings for him he would've interpreted it as a roundabout way of a command. He doesn't know what he would've done. It might've ruined their relationship forever.

"And then later," Steve goes on. "I thought maybe you didn't remember and there was no reason to bring it up and ruin the perfectly good life we built for us here. Or maybe you did remember but you just didn't feel the same anymore."

"Funny, I told myself almost the exact same things," Bucky says with a small smile.

"Well, at least we figured it out in the end," Steve says and leans down to kiss Bucky once more.

**Author's Note:**

> the dissociative episode contains bucky questioning reality, feeling as if the moment he is in is not real and will eventually vanish/not have any impact on reality. (if you need more info hmu)  
> sorry i don't know how to better describe it


End file.
